Warlock and Wanderer
by Dominus of the Dragon
Summary: A short exploration of Merlin's time waiting for Arthur, except that 2000 years later, he meets the Doctor instead. No slash. One-shot. Open to publishing more content if feedback is good.


Merlin Ambrosius, or John Jupiters as he called himself this time around, looked out of the window in his small apartment in New York. Rain splattered softly against the glass and he watched as some of the raindrops made watery tracks down the pane. He'd burned through many names throughout the centuries, it's been more than 2000 years since the times of Camelot and it was currently 2495 A.D.

In the time he waited, he'd seen many things, both good and bad. He fell in love twice, once to a woman named Charlotte Fendoma in the year 1977, who died in a tragic car accident, and the other time to Jessica Maramoya Queen of the Unified Northern Americas in the year 2230 (Very, very long story), who was assassinated while on a political trip to France. The first time that he ever fell in love, of course, was with a woman named Morgana Pendragon, and she died by his hand. The pattern made itself clear quickly and he never dared to love again.

Over the centuries he also made himself a man of many trades, taking up various occupations as he waited for the return of the Once and Future King. Thanks to his longevity (and not using his money for fruitless luxuries) he was technically the richest person on Earth. Not that there were that many people on Earth, at least not when compared to the amount of people populating the rest of space. Around the year 2300 humans made themselves very prominent in the exosphere, colonizing everywhere they could. Humanity had reached its peak with trillions of human beings spread out through the galaxy. Thankfully, Earth's population remained somewhere in the low billions, which was a relief because he very much doubted that the Earth (even with the underground civilizations built in the 2100's) would support that many people.

Somehow however, he stayed on the insignificant blue and green rock he called home. It took him 200 years just to decide to move outside of England, but when it became apparent that Arthur wouldn't be coming back for a while, he chose to try to move on. It's been a long while. He was aware that if Arthur returned, then he would be the first to know, but he didn't dare leave the little planet, not for lack of desire.

He wouldn't call what he was doing "waiting" per se, and there aren't very many words that could describe what it was exactly, so he settled on calling it living for a rather very long time. Because he did, he lived and made friends and laughed and cried and created memories. Eventually however, they would die and he would be left alone and he'd disappear for a decade or so and then come back in a totally different location and start again. But his memories, those of all the people he had ever been close to never seemed to fade away with their souls, he could remember everything clear as day. It was almost like magic, though whether that was a good or bad thing, he really couldn't say.

Speaking of magic, Merlin didn't use very much of it anymore. And although it always moved and pumped and crackled in his blood, it messed with the delicate technologies of the modern era. The most advance piece of technology he had in his possession would be a record player or an old laptop from around 2015. He enjoyed music very much in all of the time that he was alive thus far, sometimes he would listen to records, and decide which Camelot friend would enjoy that particular one more than the other. (He was pretty sure that Gaius would have been a closet hard rock lover if he had lived today)

He also enjoyed reading, he owned one of the largest libraries in the world (though it was hidden in a pocket dimension that he created for privacy.) There weren't many books that he hadn't read. He even wrote a few during his career as an author. He liked the ones to do with the magical and impossible in particular. Among his favorites of that category were the works of J.R.R Tolkien, the Harry Potter series, as well as the works of Rick Riordan. And the classics too, of course: Edgar Allen Poe, Dickens, Twain, and so on.)

His interests weren't limited to novels to do with fantasy and magic. Another of his favorite books to read had to be mystery and crime novels and above all, detective tales. Sherlock Holmes had to be one of his favorite literary characters of all time. Merlin was reading a novel called The Angle's Kiss: A Melody Malone Mystery when it happened. He heard a strange whoosing sound right outside the building. He stood up from his yellow couch and looked out the window once again. Right across the street a blue police box materialized in an alley.

Merlin's eyes widened comically and he ran out of his house, pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys as he did. The appearance of the blue box reminded him strongly of the sound of a traveling spell. He made it to the alley, ignoring the raindrops falling on his head, and he knocked on the door of the blue box desperately.

The right door swung open and Merlin had to take a step back as a tall man with black hair, a fez and a bow tie popped his head out to see who was knocking. He looked around frantically before his eyes landed on him and with a distinctive accent and a grin, he said "Oh, hello, I'm the Doctor!"

 **A/N: So here's my interpretation of what Merlin's wait for Arthur must have been like and how he meets the Doctor! A little bit of Merlin/Morgana in there, but hopefully not enough to bother anyone. I didn't plan on making this more than a oneshot but let me know what you think and I might make another chapter based on input. This was my way of avoiding updating my main story, as I wanted to take a small break and get my creative juices flowing. Also, I thought that it might be a bit of fun at the very least. So yeah, thanks for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed it**

 **UPDATE: I edited this chapter and plan to make one more to tie in with my story Subtle Differences**


End file.
